Love 1,2,3
by LoveRAGS
Summary: George has a breakdown when he can’t take Meredith’s ignoring of him anymore. He finds himself in the arms of someone he never expected. [SLASH] Chapter four up!
1. Just Friends?

Title: Love 1, 2, 3

Author: thespenders

Genre: Romance, Slash

Pairings: George / Alex

Rating: PG-13

Distribution: I suppose if you want to put it up somewhere, just ask.

Disclaimer: I don't own Grey's Anatomy or any of the characters associated with it.

Summary: George has a breakdown when he can't take Meredith's ignoring of him anymore. He finds himself in the arms of someone he never expected.

Chapter One: Just Friends?

Alex rubbed his eyes softly, resting his body against the wall as he took a quick and useless break from the chaos of the day. Izzy was right. They were friends and nothing more. How could he even pretend to think it could work? That would just be one lie a top another. He tried it with her, he tried to convince himself he was...that way... that... way. But with her, or any other woman for that matter, he couldn't have "episodes" as his current patient with the spontaneous orgasms would say. Episodes.

He opened his eyes and rolled his neck, trying to waken himself further. Another long day. Another long, long day of paper work and doctor-drama. Addison's man toy returned from New York for another piece of her. But he wouldn't be getting any, there's no chance in hell she would leave a man as steamy as McDreamy.

The thought popped into his head like a flare in the sky. He didn't even realize he was thinking it. Steamy McDreamy? That was one for the books. He had found himself thinking things like this for the past few months. Well, not just months. He had been ignoring it for years at a time, telling himself it was just a phase. He wasn't... that way. He wasn't... gay ...Was he?

He shook his head for one last chance to wake up, then let the thought fade to the back of his mind as he ended his break and began walking towards the nurse's desk to get more paper work. A long day indeed.

""""""""""

Meredith paused at the desk where George stood before her. She pulled a phone book from a cubby and began flipping through it anxiously, looking, searching. George felt his lips so close to forming a word. He was so close to beginning a sentence, he could feel it.

"Me...Meredith..." he began, waiting for her eyes to look up at him. They never did. They just kept searching. "I want to take you out tonight. To eat. Not to Joe's, somewhere nicer. We, we need to talk." She just kept looking. A haunting pause fell between them to form an awkward silence. Finally, her fingers flew over her treasure, and she tore it from the page. Then she responded.

"George, I don't want so sit on my death bed mailing out death letters." With that, she turned around and fled the room from where she had come before, leaving George lost, and beyond that, hurt. He tried to cover the small tear emitting from the corner of his eye, but it slipped beneath his fingertip and slid down his cheek. He shook his head before more could escape the lids of his slit dreams. He bent his head down, and headed towards the nearest empty room. On his way he ran into Izzy, unaware it was her, but he kept going. Hiding his hurt. He slipped into the room quietly and disappeared to all eyes. Alex walked up to Izzy, his eyes fixed on the door that had just closed.

"What is he in such a rush for?"

"I don't know... I don't..." She began. After a short pause she spoke again. "Alex. What time do you get off tonight?"

He gazed at her for a moment, then let it fall to the floor. He knew where this was going.

"I can't, Isabel. I can't do this."

"But we both know it can work!" came her protest.

"You said it right yourself, we're just friends." With that, he left her side, headed towards the door before them. Izzy just shook her head and walked in the opposite direction. Alex felt his palm collapse over the metal handle. He paused, taking in a breath of air, the turned it. After a quick glance inside, he slipped in as George had done, and shut them both inside. Together.

George was too preoccupied with silently letting tears elude from the crystal of his eyes to notice Alex entering. That's why he gasped softly after feeling the touch of cold hands on his shoulders. He jumped slightly, just barely bumping his head on the top bunk of the bed in which he sat. His eyes flipped open, watery and disappointed. He slowly settled back into a comfortable position, and quickly wondered why Alex, Alex of all people was sitting before him with his hand on his shoulder, and a smug frown on his face.

"I saw you rush in here." He explained slowly. "I thought maybe..." His words faded, leaving them both quiet again. George took up the courage to reply.

"Thought... what..." he asked.

"Maybe you... needed something... I don't know." Alex said, his hand falling from George's shoulder to the blankets. George watched it slipped off, realizing Alex was trying to comfort me. He spoke up.

"Meredith. She, she doesn't hear me. She doesn't listen when I talk." More tears began to slip. "She never–She never..." His emotions took hold of him and he found himself unable to finish his thought. Alex felt unstably sad for the poor boy before him. He wrapped an arm around him, and let him flood his pain onto his shoulder.

"I... I... I can't do this, I can't go out there, I can't let her see me... see...me" he choked out pitifully.

"Sh, no. No you don't have to go out there..." he said, running a hand through a lock of his hair.

"Why are you doing this, Alex? Why are you being nice?" George asked into the blue of his surgical clothes.

"Because... I care." he said back. "You don't deserve this George."

George looks up at him and they catch each other's gaze.

"I don't have to go out there?" he asked.

"No. No you don't. Ill wait with you."

He felt back to his shoulder and let out a breath of tangled air. And they waited, together.


	2. Changing The Subject

Chapter Two: Changing The Subject

""""""""""

Alex pulled into his parking spot outside of his apartment and stopped the car. George lay beside him in the passenger seat, fast asleep in his own dreams. Alex began to review the previous hours in his head slowly. Earlier, after a long while of waiting, and stale air, Alex checked outside the room to make sure it was almost clear. All were gone but a few nurses, and a pacing woman in front of the white board. It was Bailey. She had noticed him right away, she is most definitely the most sly woman Alex had ever known. She snapped at him as she always did, and asked him where he had been. After he was reluctant to respond, she shook her head and carried on her way, headed towards the north wing. Alex opened the door all the way and George had followed him to the lockers. They changed quietly, and then led each other out to the parking lot where Alex started the car, and they headed out. He didn't even have to ask if he wanted to go home. He knew he couldn't face Meredith tonight. Not tonight.

After thinking over the past, he stepped out of the car and walked over the other side, opening the door quietly. He nudged George carefully. After a moment, he stirred and his dry eyes fluttered open came across the man standing over him.

"Alex?" he asked in a woken confusion. His mind wandered for a moment. He was still in love with Meredith, he knew it, but, what was this? Maybe Alex was disguising himself with kindness, or maybe... No. No, he has to be hiding behind fake friendliness.

"Let's get inside..." Alex replied.

""""""""""

Isabel glided down the stairs almost ghost-like, her flannel pajama bottoms wafting about her legs. She found herself in the living room. Meredith sat upon the couch, watching the fire slowly die. She joined her.

"Alex blew me off today." She said, eyes mixing with the seductive tingle of the fire before them.

"I blew off George today." Meredith cooed stalely. Izzy glanced at her for a moment, then resumed her stare at the licking flames.

"He really likes you Meredith. I mean, really likes you."

"I know. I heard it today. Actually, I've heard it before, but today... I heard it. It's like, everything he's ever said to me suddenly makes sense. And..."

"And?" Isabel picked up.

"And it scared me." Meredith kept on. "I ignored him and just... shot some words out of no where and left... I don't even remember what I said... I..." She stopped.

"How did it scare you?"

"I went to see my father." she replied. Isabel just stared back, confused.

"That's how I dodge things, Izzy. I change the subject to another one just as intense." They resumed silence, and the fire gained back attention, until it died down, and disappeared.

""""""""""

Alex opened the door of the hall closet and pulled out a few extra blankets. George had sat himself on the couch and removed his shoes and jacket. The apartment was soothingly clean, and the steam rising from the dishwasher made it warm and welcoming. But George couldn't help feeling out of place. He fidgeted his hands and waited for Alex to bring the blankets over. When he did, he offered to pull the bed out of the couch and make it for him.

"I don't need you help." George said stalely, rising from his seat and pulling the cushions off, himself. Alex felt the need to reply, but held back. He just watched as George tried aimlessly to pull out the bed. He pulled at it, tugged at it, did everything he could (including falling on his ass several times) but it would not remove itself form the depths of the couch.

"God damnit!" he shouted finally. He stood back without anymore words, waiting for Alex to do it. He walked over to it, and reached down into the front between the bed and couch, and pulled out a thin metal handle which he used to pull the bed up and out. George watched in frustration.

"Really not that hard." Alex said smiling. George shook his head in anger and grabbed the blankets.

"Do you want to..talk?" Alex asked softly.

"No, Alex. I really don't." George shot back at him coldly.

"Fair enough."

There was no more response. Just air between them. Alex turned and left to his own bedroom. Once he closed the door, George slumped down on the bed and sighed. He knew tonight would be a sleepless one.


	3. Nightmare

Chapter Three: Nightmare

""""""""""

It was, in an odd way, the scariest position he ever found himself in. And it was all imaginary. He was in a foggy field, nothing but tall grass and the cool air raising from the ground, causing restrictions on his sight. The fear of not knowing what could be there was always his biggest fear. Something could appear at any moment, at its own will. He began to turn, shuffle his feet in twisted circles, never letting an inch of the visible space go unwatched. Turning, spinning, faster, faster. Something could be there! He couldn't be alone, not in such a place as this. Turning, faster, spinning, spinning! And as his blurred perspective became more aware of his spinning, he saw it. A flash of gray in the distance. He stopped his movement abruptly. It was behind him. Whatever it was, the flash of fear, it was behind his fragile body. He turned slowly, and the sight was revealed to him. The grass was cut shorter, and there was a small dirt pathway, leading to a cold dreary bell tower.

He began to walk forward towards it, taking small steps, eyes focused on the haunting building. Step. Step. Step. 1. 2. 3. Step. Step. Step. Until he reached the chamber door. It stared at him, almost, mocking his soul. He shook his head and snatched the handle, pushing the wooden restriction open. After stepping in, it closed again, sealing him in. He didn't even bother to see if it was locked or not. Neither solution would sooth him now. He stood before now, a spiral staircase, tall and overbearing.

"George" came a voice above the steps. It was taunting, yet caring. It was, her. He set foot to the steps, and began to climb. Step. Step. Step. 1. 2. 3. Step. Step. Step. He could do this, he could get to the top! He could make it to her and they could live forever together, happily, romantically, lovingly, forever! He could make it! His legs grew tired as the steps wore on, everlasting stone, vile to his step. Then finally, he saw it. The opening. The hatch. He ran now, gathering up his courage to finally be with her, the one he was meant to spend his life with. His hand pushed the wooden trap open, it flew above him and hit the floor above. He was so close to her. He poked his eyes above it, to the upstairs floor, and they came to meet a scalpel. Of all things! A scalpel? No, this couldn't be! He looked up, nothing. He raised his body through the small hole, and lifted himself above to the surface. He stood, and looked around.

"George." Came the loving voice from behind him. He smiled, and spun around to meet her. Nothing. Empty. Quiet. He shook his head in frustration. How could this be!

"No..." he whispered, gaining more anger.

"NO!" he screamed to full capacity. "NO THIS ISN'T HAPPENING!" his rage grabbed a hold of him and he ran to the stone wall, to the only window. He looked out it, into the fearing fog. There she was. Down in the pathway, white dress and white veil.

"George." She taunted. "George! George! GEORGE!" She began to yell. Then the dream faded into reality as he woke.

""""""""""

Alex stirred beneath his covers, twisting in the sheets. He was half awake, half trying to be asleep. He finally found a somewhat comfortable position, and halted his movement. What a long and strange day it had been. Not the fact it was a full day of rain, no it always rained here in Seattle. But because of the sheer wonder that had been pulsing through his thoughts, consuming his brain, keeping him from thinking correctly. He felt like a walking time bomb in the hospital, waiting to screw up on a patient or file, or anything. Thankfully he had dodged the possibility of that in which circled in his mind now.

He had other things to worry about. Things that kept him from his sleep. Say, his sexuality. He had gone through life going after women, being a perverted mouthed fool with a fake need for female. It was all a lie. Wrapped around his life with nagging from his family, and friends. Such a stereotype for a gay guy to be a materialistic, leather-wearing, makeup-buying, fruit bitch. That's not what he was. He knew that's not what he would ever be. But gay. Yes, he definitely had a feeling he was. Always he had an attraction for guys, but he denied it, forced himself to think he was bi to please everyone around him. Well no longer. He couldn't put up with it. He knew the truth was bubbling above the surface of his mind. He was... is...

"NO!" Came a shout from the living room, piercing through the walls and shooting into Alex's ears. It was George. He jumped out of his bed and went to his bedroom door, throwing it open to see what the continuing yelling was for. George was above the blankets, kicking his legs furiously, yelling the word over and over. "NO!" he shouted. Alex ran to the bed and grabbed his wrists, pulling him up to a sitting position.

"George! George! George!" Alex yelled, holding his violently moving body against the back of the couch. "George!"

His movements turned slower, then stopped as his eyes opened to fall upon Alex. They stared at each other for a few moments, George scared and confused, Alex soothing and quiet, shushing him. His grip loosened and they both calmed.

"What happened?" Alex asked him.

"She never listens." came the reply. "She never listens to me, and she never will." Alex slid his hands down George's arms, letting them fall over his.

"Ill always listen." he said.


	4. Janis Joplin Told Me To Cry

Chapter Four: Janis Joplin Told Me To Cry

""""""""""

The windows were blue with the mornings rainy light. Mist fell all over Seattle, giving everyone the blue tint in their bedrooms to provide a sensual feeling. The people who probably needed it most were the interns at Seattle Grace hospital.

Izzie lay stretched out on her bed, sleeping lightly. Her dreams would be forgotten, but it didn't matter. They weren't that special. She never had memorable dreams like everyone else seemed too. No, she seemed to spend most of her dream time when she was awake.

Her sleep was suddenly disrupted by the loud alarm clock that sat on the bed side table next to her, flashing 5:00. It was Janis Joplin. Her piercing voice screeched through the house, echoing through the halls. Cry, Baby. Cry, Cry, Baby. Izzie shook her head in disgust and hit the snooze button.

"God! Shut the hell up!" She yelled at it. She always listened to that type of music, but you either love Janis or you hate her. And Izzie definitely didn't love her. After a moment, she heard the scampering feet of Meredith coming down the hall.

"Damnit Izzie!" she yelled as she reached the open door. "Why do you keep your alarm clock on so loud!"

"It wakes me up." She replied, falling back to her pillows.

"Apparently not for long." Meredith mumbled under her breath, walking away, towards the stairs. She stomped down them grumpily, watching the door as she took each step down. It was still unlocked. George never came home. She spat a dirty look at it, as she stepped onto the ground floor and turned for the kitchen. After making a big pot of steaming coffee, she found herself falling asleep on the kitchen table. Then, the song began to burst through the house, almost louder than before.

Cry, CRY, baby!

"MAKE YOUR SNOOZE TIME LONGER!" Meredith tried to shout over the blazing music. It stopped abruptly.

"WHAT?" Izzie shouted back. Meredith sighed, then rose to go get some coffee.

""""""""""

George stretched his neck, keeping his eyes shut. The blue darkness that covered his lids made him smile. The rain was beating on the side of the window softly, creating an arrhythmic beat to his waking body. He loved mornings like this. He twisted off of his stomach, to his back, wrapping himself in more sheets. His sinuses were clear, and his eyes dry. He must have been crying. He started wondering what happened the night before. Then it struck him. Meredith. That's why he was crying. Meredith. The too familiar name. It flared in his mind. Flared because he loved it, but couldn't stand loving it. Meredith.

Then he remembered. He was in Alex's apartment. Yes, that was right. He remembered trying to pull the bed out of the couch. But, the mattress seemed oddly softer than the night before. Yes, he was sure of it. He sat motionless upon the feathery bedding, trying to gather the strength to open his eyes and see what had changed sense his sleeping state sunk in. When he felt his mind waking more, he finally let them fall open. When he found his surroundings different, he sat up. The bed was bigger than he remembered. The walls were more concealing. What was going on?

He twisted his neck to stretch his muscles, but instead found himself staring at someone he never expected.

"Holy... shit." came the confused whisper from his chapped lips. He rose from the bed slowly, trying not to move it. He was left standing before it in his boxers, staring at Alex, barely covered by the sheets. Skin soft in the morning's light, lips happy for unknown reasons, sleeping lightly.

"Oh...crap" George continued. He walked to the bedroom door and exited to the living room. His clothes were strewn out all over the floor, wrinkled and wrung from a late night's sweat. He shook his head in dreadful confusion, collecting his stripped clothing. After finding them all, he brought them back to the tangled bedding upon the couch's mattress. He began to dress hurriedly, wishing he knew the time. It must be early if Alex's alarm hasn't gone off yet. As soon as the thought popped into his mind, it happened.

Cry, Cry! Baby!

"Shit!" He yelled. "Why why why why why!" came the mumbling from his throat. All he had left was his shirt. He began to drag it on over his head whilst running towards the apartment door.

Cry! CRYYY! BABY!

His hand touched the golden handle, just as he heard the bedroom door behind him open.

"George?" Alex's voice touched his ears with sweet magnitude. How could he respond? To that? The sweetness?

"She told me to cry!" he said, running out the door, running from the apartment, running from the awkwardness that could become. And as he ran, he heard Alex's short confused response.

"What?"

And he ran.


End file.
